


Winter's Feast 101: How to not enjoy the holidays

by Stabbsworth



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27887347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stabbsworth/pseuds/Stabbsworth
Summary: Wilson does not have a good Winter's Feast.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Winter's Feast 101: How to not enjoy the holidays

Wilson poked his head out of his tent, eyeing Wickerbottom carefully. She was sitting on a log, and likely wouldn't care for hearing him skittering about to bring something in.

Good enough. Even if she did notice, she probably wouldn't bother him about it.

He quickly moved to his chest, the one that he kept near to his tent, and began taking things out as quietly as possible, until he reached the bottom.

Then he pulled the bottom out.

A false-bottomed chest was what he used to store scientific materials that weren't so expendable in being used by kids. (They always made sure to ask first, mind you, but it was still a possibility.)

There was a package in there, and he took the small bundle out, then started putting things back in. First was the false bottom panel itself, then the rest of the junk that he's collected.

He gave a huff, before freezing when he could hear Wickerbottom turning a page, then skittered back into his tent as quietly as possible.

Wilson stared at the parcel in his hands for a moment, maybe two, before unwrapping the small thing.

Technically a present to himself, he supposed. He'd wanted about forty of these for… scientific purposes. And edibility purposes.

It had taken some time, a lot of dead spiders, and swapping treats with other treats to get a stack of these. The others didn't seem to mind that much.

This was entirely scientific.

.o0O0o.

"Holy shit." Charlie muttered on the throne, staring at the scene inside Wilson's tent. A fountain of absurdity. And it was supposedly for science.

"Hey, hey. Skitts, come look at this." The smaller shadow beast cocked his head and came over.

"He's trying to eat forty of those cookies that I bestowed on the land. Something about it being for science."

Skitts gave her a confused look.

"I've eaten a ton of latkes before." A pause. "What? Those things are good. Anyways, he's probably going to feel like shit."

Skitts nodded, a grin on that shadowy maw of his.

"I'm not sure what he expected. A medal?" A laugh, before she flicked away to a different view.

.o0O0o.

"Hey, has anyone seen Wilson?"

"We think we last saw him in his tent. Spider half said not to disturb him."

"He's not usually sleeping in this late."

"Maybe he's not feeling good?"

Willow just huffed, before rustling the tent flap.

"Wilson, it's nearly midday! Get your butt outta there."

She could see him, curled up amongst several blankets, one of the thinner ones covering him.

"Wilson?"

There was a noise that sounded vaguely like human speech.

The firestarter huffed again, ducking into the tent and nudging him in the back with her shoe. "Hey."

"Ow. What-- Whaddyawan'." He'd evidently just woken up. He turned his head a bit to look at her, blinking blearily to try and clear his vision.

"It's almost midday. You've been laying in there for more than eight hours."

There was another noise from him. "'m tired."

"Did you stay up all night tinkering with your science stuff again?"

"Nooooooooo." That sounded much whinier than she was used to. She cocked her head.

"Wilsooooooon. Be honeeeeeest."

"Hhhghh. Fine." A pause. "My stomach hurts."

"Oh, so that's why you're lounging around."

There was an affirmative hum, he adjusted himself to get a little bit more comfortable and turned his head away from her.

Willow promptly ripped the blanket off of him.

"C'mon, Wils, time to get outta bed!"

An alarmed sort of trumpet noise rang out from him, before he curled up tighter, trying to at least preserve some of the heat.

Good god, he just wanted to rest.

"Willooooooowwwww."

"You've got stuff to do, man."

"...D'youhhaveabucket?" He was pretty certain that he'd just thrown up in his mouth a little bit.

"What?" Wilson could feel the confused look from here.

"Bucket." He repeated, swallowing down saliva.

"Whaddya want that for?"

"You know why."

There was a long pause. "Oh." She quickly ducked out of the tent.

Webber was waiting, almost expectantly. "Is Mr. Wilson okay?"

Willow shrugged. "He'll be fine." Then she started rummaging around in one of the chests, and brought out a bucket, not particularly caring to hide it from Webber, who was already sidling away.

She ducked into the tent again to see Wilson sitting up.

"Here ya go."

There was a long pause, before he registered it and grabbed it.

"...Might've jus' been a false al-HGK--"

She watched as he curled over the bucket. That sounded absolutely disgusting. She quietly ducked out of the tent -- presumably he'd want some… privacy. Less to be embarrassed about, that way.

...She could still hear him gagging from outside.

.o0O0o.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Mm."

"...You look like shit."

"Very astute." Wilson grumbled, leaning against her. "'s not as bad as before. The, uh. The whole stomach hurting thing, I mean."

His hair hadn't been smoothed down by the bristles of a hairbrush nor by hand. It looked greasy and unwashed. Not the most pleasant feeling.

"Are you allergic to something?"

"...Nnnnot really. Unless you count eating about forty cookies as allergic."

"Holy shit. No fuckin' wonder why you were so cranky. Even Webber gets sort of upset at around seven."

"Around nine is when it started tasting like sludge."

There was a bout of silence.

"Hey, Wilson, why did you wanna eat forty cookies anyways?"

"...It was for science."

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me why i wrote this. i was bored.


End file.
